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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29221818">out of thin air</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyoshi_lesbians/pseuds/kyoshi_lesbians'>kyoshi_lesbians</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Foggy Swamp Air Nomads [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Avatar: The Last Airbender</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Air Nomads (Avatar), Gen, OCs - Freeform, foggy swamp</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 00:55:54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,228</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29221818</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyoshi_lesbians/pseuds/kyoshi_lesbians</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The spiritual energy itching under Choejor's skin now was unlike anything she'd felt from the Tree before. Restless and urgent, it buzzed through her body as loud and clear and ominous as a bell: a signal wrapped in anticipation.</p><p>Choejor had no idea what to make of it.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Foggy Swamp Air Nomads [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2145510</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>out of thin air</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For anyone unfamiliar with my hdc for foggy swamp air nomads, these <a href="https://kyoshi-lesbians.tumblr.com/post/638903046709067776/sleeping-quarters-are-inside-the-tree-the-main">two</a> <a href="https://kyoshi-lesbians.tumblr.com/post/638948013491077120/heya-im-absolutely-inspired-by-your-swamp">posts</a> and <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Banyan#/media/File:Strangler_fig_inside.jpg">this</a>  picture of the inside of a banyan tree may clear up confusion and help to visualize the air nomads' home!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The noise woke Choejor while the room was still pitch-dark.</p><p>Although it wasn’t physical noise, per se, it might as well be. Spirits could be loud if you were tuned into their energy. The Tree, with roots that moved through the whole world, created an intangible buzz that could be deafening.</p><p>Choejor frowned as she sat up in her bed.</p><p>The spiritual energy itching under Choejor's skin now was unlike anything she'd felt from the Tree before. Restless and urgent, it buzzed through her body as loud and clear and ominous as a bell: a signal wrapped in anticipation.</p><p>Choejor had no idea what to make of it.</p><p>She placed her left palm firmly against the living bark wall her bed was pressed up against. The point of contact glowed faintly gold in the dark room as she closed her eyes, asked a question, and listened carefully for the response.</p><p>A rush of adrenaline ran through her body. She heard the cacophony of cicada-bees and splashes of catfish-dolphins. She smelled pungent durian-jackfruits and sweet jasmine-lotuses. She felt the light footfalls of saola-tigers pressed into soft dirt and the push-pull flow of river water. She saw sleeping leaves unfurling, stretching towards the sky. </p><p>There was nothing out of the ordinary with the Swamp. </p><p>So why was the Tree practically shouting at her? </p><p>“Good morning to you too,” she muttered petulantly at the bark that had woken her up. </p><p>Choejor didn’t much feel like sleeping anymore, so she rolled onto her back and resigned herself to staring at the ceiling until dawn. In the darkness she couldn’t see the intricate carvings there, but she fell into a comfortable lull by remembering the patterns above. In her mind’s eye she traced over the etchings of flowers, swamp-dwelling birds, and sky bison of the old days: symbols for protection and good luck that had been meticulously carved into the bark and painted in bright colors by careful hands. She focused on the patterns and her breathing.  </p><p>Choejor had calmed the residual buzz under her skin by the time she heard her roommate wake up. Tashi bolted upright in bed, jumped onto the floor, swiftly pulled out the glowfly lamp kept tucked under their bed and gave it a soft shake. They moved around as swiftly as if they’d been up for hours.</p><p>“I forgot how weirdly you wake up,” Choejor commented.</p><p>Tashi dropped the lamp. Choejor winced as the light rolled across the floor with a sharp clatter that the bamboo mats couldn't fully muffle. </p><p>“Monkey feathers!" Tashi yelped, and Choejor couldn't help but smirk as Tashi bent down to retrieve the lamp from where it rolled under their bed. "What are you doing up already?"</p><p>Choejor kept looking at the ceiling. The baby glowflies seemed rightfully angry at being knocked around. They were flying around furiously fast and lighting up sporadically as if to be purposely difficult. Shadows shifted over the carvings so quickly that the etchings looked to be in motion; if Choejor squinted, she could almost pretend that the sky bison were alive.</p><p>“The Tree was rowdy,” Choejor finally answered. </p><p>Tashi laughed, and it shattered the hush that instinctually exists before daybreak. They picked up the lamp from the floor and set it on the low table between their two beds. “Only you would call a Great Spirit rowdy,” they said fondly.</p><p>Choejor was rather lackadaisical with her relationship with The Tree. They were familiar with each other, even more so than Choejor was with Tashi. </p><p>Choejor had spent much of her childhood with her hands pressed against The Tree’s warm bark and being comforted by the cycle of energy between them. While other kids ran around playing tag, Choejor tucked herself into hidden curves where a branch met the trunk, and would have what she could only describe as conversations with the Tree, spoken not with words but feelings and sensations. </p><p>The Tree and her became friends at a time when Choejor didn’t have many others. </p><p>Choejor didn’t realize that sort of connection was unusual, and her teachers didn’t realize it was a thing, until she was thirteen years old. The cat had jumped out of the bag during a community crisis, and once that was resolved, it was a confusing flurry of the elders asking her questions with answers that she could barely articulate, and whispered discussions of how to change her education, and Choejor hated every second of it until Master Jungney was appointed her mentor. </p><p>A few elders had wanted Choejor to begin specialized training with Jungney right away, to hone her connection to The Swamp. She would have to train with Jungney in addition to her regular classes, leaving her with approximately zero free time and the growing weight of adult responsibilities. But Jungney had told the council, “You will not take her childhood away,” and refused to budge an inch. Choejor got to continue her regular studies and did not begin apprenticeship until she was sixteen years old, just like every other young nun and monk. </p><p>Choejor had never been so grateful as she was for Jungney that day.</p><p>“I wake up perfectly normally,” Tashi was said, bringing back Choejor’s attention to the present. “You’re the weirdo who relies on a squirrel-frog to wake up everyday,” Tashi said, </p><p>As if hearing that he was being talked about, Yamyam the squirrel-frog chirped from his nest tucked in a high curve of the room. Tashi had found him when he was just a baby, recently injured and alone, and nursed the little guy to health. Attempts to restore him back to the Swamp wild had failed. Yamyam wouldn’t leave Tashi’s side, and they were forced to admit that he probably wouldn’t be able to survive out there anyway. </p><p>Yamyam became Tashi’s constant companion, Tashi and Choejor’s unofficial third roommate, and Choejor’s morning wakeup call on the days Tashi wasn’t around to force her out of bed. </p><p>Or the days when Choejor wasn’t woken up by the latent emotions of a Great Spirit. </p><p>“Yamyam enjoys his responsibility,” Choejor said. “I wouldn’t want to take his job away.”</p><p>Tashi rolled their eyes. “How did the Tree wake you anyway?” </p><p>Yamyam chose that moment to launch himself from his nest onto Tashi’s shoulder. Tashi didn’t even blink at the sudden movement, just began to pet him absently, and Choejor idly wondered if the Yamyam’s sudden wakefulness was a learned behavior. </p><p>“The Tree… She's anticipating something.” Cheojor breathed deep and blew the air out slowly. “I don't know what.”</p><p>“I didn’t realize the connection was that strong when you weren’t trying for it.”</p><p>“It usually isn’t.”</p><p>“Your lessons with Jungney must be paying off,” Tashi said. Their eyes went soft, and they looked proud of Choejor, as if she was doing something special by learning the bare minimum of skills for the role she was being trained for. </p><p>It was such a sweet sentiment, even if misplaced, that Choejor couldn’t help but give a small smile.</p><p>“Maybe," Choejor allowed. "It probably helped that I was asleep.” After all, Choejor’s dreams occasionally had what might be a touch of premonition to them, but it was more of a nuisance than help when she couldn’t interpret them in any meaningful way. “Jungney says that in sleep our minds don’t carry the same illusions that hold in our waking states.”</p><p>“This hasn’t happened before though,” Tashi pointed out.</p><p>“No,” Cheojor confirmed. “It hasn’t.”</p><p>Tashi nodded thoughtfully, then gently shrugged Yamyam off their shoulders and began wrapping their day robes around themself. The squirrel-frog hopped right on the top of Choejor's head. Choejor let him rest there as she dressed in her own red and yellow robes, taking it as a personal challenge to dress without disturbing him. She managed it, despite his fluffy tail flicking across her face.</p><p>There was still some time before morning meditation was called. Instead of leaving for the library, Tashi sat in bed to study their own precise sketches of toucan-bat wings while Choejor read from her worn copy of The Collected Teachings of Laghamia. </p><p>When the deep echo of a horn from high-above sounded off, calling all monks and nuns to start the day −  “How in Yangchen’s name can you possibly sleep through that?” Rabten always asked incredulously −  Yamyam hopped onto Choejor’s stomach and croaked in her face as loudly as the little creature could. It didn’t make any difference to the squirrel-frog’s routine that Choejor was already awake.</p><p>“Thanks buddy,” Choejor said. She scratched his back and he chirped happily. </p><p>Just as they were about to leave their room, Tashi stopped Choejor with a hand on her forearm. She must have still looked troubled, because Tashi said “Talk to Jungney. She’ll know what’s going on.” </p><p>Choejor recalled the mix of anticipation, worry, and excitement that had woken her up, a concoction of emotions that, if she had to compare it to anything, was most like the crackle in the air before a storm rolled in. It wasn’t intrinsically dangerous. Just unknown. </p><p>What had Choejor on edge wasn’t the feeling of it, but how The Tree was being reclusive about the meaning behind it. Admitting she was worried because a friend was keeping something from her seemed childish when the friend in question was the Spirit of the Swamp. The Tree had more important things to attend to than to hold Choejor’s hand. </p><p>“I’ll ask her about it,” Choejor agreed, without knowing if she was lying or not. But she smiled and Tashi smiled back, and together they stepped through the embroidered fabric that curtained their room, and the wide open cavern of the inner Tree stretched before them.</p><p>***</p><p>Few outsiders ever wandered into the Swamp. Of those who did, fewer still came to realize fundamental truths of it: how the Swamp was the Tree; the Tree was connected to every living thing; the illusion of time.</p><p>But outsiders also neglected to understand a much more mundane fact.</p><p>The core of the Great Tree is hollow.</p><p>Banyan-Groves are strangler fig trees. They must first grow around an established living tree. The Banyan-Grove aerial branches shoot down, grasping the host limbs in an ever tighter embrace, and eventually the host tree is unable to get the nutrients needed to survive. The host tree withers and dies; time turns the dead bark into dust; and the paths of deceased branches linger as open crevices. </p><p>At the center of every Banyan-Grove is the ghost of another tree. </p><p>Their people lived in the ghost of this one. And they had brought life back to it.</p><p>***</p><p>Sprawling across the circular cavern were dozens of criss crossed woven-vine bridges that hundreds of people walked along. A great staircase that began from the depths of the Tree roots, where sunlight couldn't even reach, spiraled up along the side of the inner Tree, connecting with individual rooms and bridges along the way. A few vibrant green vines hung loosely down the center of the divide. They swayed lazily as a group of young children flew past on gliders. Choejor watched as one of the kids did a series of impressive loops around a vine-bridge. They looked back at their friends, beaming, and promptly collided with Master Palden crossing the bridge above. Master Paladen's shout and the kids’ lilting laughter echoed around the cavern.</p><p>"It feels like just yesterday that it was you crashing on your glider," Tashi sighed melodramatically as they began walking up the spiral staircase. "How time flies."</p><p>"Tashi," Choejor warned.</p><p>"Oh that's right,” they said placidly, as if they weren’t being a brat, “It almost was only yesterday!"</p><p>"It wasn’t!” </p><p>"Mmmhm. How many days has it been since you last patched your glider?" Tashi grinned brightly, and it clicked, in Choejor’s mind, that her friend was trying to distract her from her worries, and she had to tamp down the grateful smile that was threatening to appear. </p><p>“It’s only been a month since a full flying mishap,” she said, knowing fully well that it wouldn’t help her case. Tashi kept teasing her as they climbed up the main staircase and the worry was pushed to the back of her mind.  </p><p>Still, when Tashi stepped up into a bright circle of glowfly lamp light, throwing the contrast of the blue arrow running along their shaven brown head in stark relief, Choejor was reminded that at her seventeen years of age it was a bit embarrassing that she still lacked the control to fly properly. </p><p>“I guess you don’t need my help carrying the incense for meditation after all,” she told Tashi, because Choejor could be a brat too. Tashi probably didn’t even remember it was their turn for incense duty this week. Tashi spluttered as Choejor leapt up onto the nearest vine bridge, hopping away from them. Choejor wasn’t the best flier, but she could usually beat Tashi in a foot race.</p><p>“Choejor I take it back you’re a great flier − wait, Choejor!” Tashi called out as they hastily tucked Yamyam into their robes. </p><p>Laughing, Choejor sprung lightly from one vine-bridge to the next, then grabbed hold of a loose vine and propelled herself high with a sharp gust of air. Tashi chased after her. They raced upwards and onwards, out of the central chambers of the Tree to the open air branches and the brightening sky, straight on into the morning.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading!!!</p><p>My main references and inspiration for this story have been the film The Cup (1999), the documentary Daughters of Dolma (2013), Naktsang Nulo's autobiography My Tibetan Childhood, and interviews from the <a href="https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCleoR8qWz37kX4rFfcUJrhg">Tibet Oral History Project</a>, as well as some basic research about banyan trees, mangroves, and the Mekong Delta. </p><p>I’m planning 2 or 3 more chapters for this story. A few more OCs are to be introduced and who knows, we might see some familiar faces later on</p><p>You can find me at <a href="https://www.kyoshi-lesbians.tumblr.com">kyoshi-lesbians</a> on tumblr, where I am always down to talk more about the air nomads, the kyoshi novels, and the ladies of alta</p></blockquote></div></div>
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